


Once More Unto the Breach

by Sunshineditty



Series: Pictured Inspiration [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dwemer - Freeform, Gen, Ruins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshineditty/pseuds/Sunshineditty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running the gamut through a deserted yet booby trapped ancient Dwemer city. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked this screenshot I took while going through the lost Dwemer city of Arkngthamz.

Meriel shoved a calloused hand through sweaty blond strands as she calculated the odds of them sneaking past the Dwemer-made spiders and avoiding activating the mechanical carroballista at the end of the long hallway. Even if they were extra careful to step around the floor triggered traps, there was no guarantee two spiders were the only guardians waiting around the bend. And while she trusted her own flexibility Meriel knew her companion wasn't as fast as she. His Destruction spells usually evened out their skills but in a contest of grace and speed, Cian would lose.

Badly.

Unfortunately, there was little choice but to go forth no matter how much she wished otherwise because the way they came was blocked by shifting stones. Calmer now with her choice made, Meriel unslung her shortbow from across her shoulders to ensure the horse hair string was tight and the ebony infused wood was cold to the touch. Many things could be said about the Winterhold mages, but their magickal abilities were above par. Nearly a season had passed since the bow was enchanted with freezing spells and it still hadn't worn off yet.  

"Do ya think we'll make it?'

Cian didn't look at her while he twisted his hands into a complicated pattern summoning two fire wolves to fight at his command. The crack of the spell faded into distinctive feral growls and she grimaced when she realized she still listened for Meeko's answering bark despite his month-long absence from her side. Melancholy and regret had no place in a fight for survival so Meriel shook herself free of any lingering memories and returned to this moment in time. Treasure and possible answers to ages-old questions about the long vanished Dwemers lay ahead; failure was not an option.

"I've spoken to the Nine and I'm pretty sure I'll survive."

"And my chances?'

"You're fucked," she responded cheerfully.

The Bosmer shaman laughed a little, his blue eyes bright against the black swirls tattooed on his face.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she promised, an arrow already nocked back and ready to fly.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Meriel rolled to the side, dodging the swing of the large metal guardian, his awkward blow splitting into the marbled floor below and cracking the stone. Cian's fire spell bounced off the hardened golden carapace protecting the guts of the machine and Meriel knew she had to end this before something worse came to investigate their commotion. With a snarl worthy of the wolves she hunted for skins, the archer dropped her broken bow and pulled her two blades from their sheaths at her hips and swung outward, blades glinting in the uncertain light. Her aim was off and she winced as the keenly edged daggers scratched harmlessly at the underside of the machine's arms. It twisted smoothly and reacquired her as its target, arms lifting with the obvious intent on smashing downward towards her unprotected body. For a brief moment Meriel froze, caught up in the merciless golden gaze and wondered if this was how she met her end.

Forgotten in the endless eternity of oncoming death, Cian barked a spell in his native tongue, and vines suddenly appeared, wrapping obediently about the guardian's upper body and arresting his movement.

"Move now, Welkynd!"

His voice, usually soft and deferential, was a clarion call to battle and Meriel flipped backwards, body moving despite her spinning mind. His wolves popped into existence again and raced past her towards the guardian and distracting it for the crucial moments necessary to escape its lethal reach; given a semblance of life but no intelligence, the metal menace redirected its attentions to the wolves nipping at its legs. 

"With me now, yes? While I appreciate you letting me regenerate Magicka, playing tickle me with it probably wasn't the best idea."

Unbelievably Meriel found a smile stretching her lips at Cian's absurd complaint and she scooted backwards on her buttocks until she bumped into him. A heavily tattooed hand dropped down to briefly pat her on the head before he drew another surge of magickal fire and directed it at their worthy foe. She felt useless without her trusty bow and had no reason to think her blades would help. For once she had no idea how to help and contemplated just yelling at Cian to run away; it wouldn't work, of course, because these machines didn't tire and wouldn't give up searching for them. If they had a map they might escape into a safer area, but if the rest of their time in here was any indication, other metal monstrosities awaited them in the shadows. And somehow they were able to communicate so Meriel and Cian would be hunted down as easily as skeeves in a pen.

It was the whistling of a piercing arrow that alerted Meriel to another's presence. Well, that, and the guardian let out a horrific whiny sound before whirring to a gentle stop with a smoking somewhat insubstantial shaft inches deep in the back. Shards littered the ground so the arrow must've hit the gismo powering the machine.

"By Talos' beard, you are lucky I caught up to you."

Katia, the ghostly archer they met earlier in their descent, glided through the inert metal body to stand before them. Cian ignored her and helped Meriel to her feet, hands impersonally running over her body as he checked her for wounds.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Meriel groused as she half-heartedly slapped at Cian's questing fingers. The first time he ever did this - after a contract sent them into a mine to clear it of a bandit infestation - Meriel's fist laid him out, anger roaring through her. Embarrassment swiftly followed his stuttering explanation: Bosmer shamen were healers and he'd reacted to her pain the same he would any tribesman. It was one of many cultural misunderstandings they worked out between them in the months trekking across Skyrim.

He stared at her, eyebrow arched. "Really? How's your bow arm feel?"

How did he _do_ that? She glanced at it because it felt deadened, as if no longer apart of her body, but no, her arm remained. The blow that broke her bow had caught her arm in the process, though Meriel doubted the bone was cracked. The heat of the healing spell washed through her right side and Meriel submitted to it with ill-grace, muttering a quick "Thank you" when the glow faded and she could move without pain.

"Will you let me help you now?"

The hollow female voice recalled Meriel to the ghost's presence and she switched her gaze to the shimmering apparition. 

"Yes, I-nay we-appreciate your assistance. Follow me?"

Necessity sometimes made strange bedfellows, Meriel mused as she gathered her scattered belongings, sadly fondling the shattered remains of her shortbow. The weapon had taken her months to craft and was the best thing she ever produced at the forge. Even Lod, her blacksmith mentor, was moved to compliment her, an act she wished she could trap in a soul gem to listen to again and again since he was normally a taciturn man of few words.   
  
"Take it with you. It can be repaired."  _Anything can_ , remained unspoken. 

Finished, pack settled across her shoulders, Meriel looked towards their ghostly companion. "Lead on."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Welkynd_ : Ayleidoon-Bosmeris word meaning "Sky child"


End file.
